How To Save A Life
by xlifelongsorrowx
Summary: When Special Agent Blaine Anderson is the distraction in an operation to stop a child prostitution ring, he didn't expect to have sex with his boss' kidnapped teenage son. He certainly didn't expect to fall in love with him. M for smut and language!
1. Chapter 1

Title: How To Save A Life  
><span>Author:<span> PuppeteerofLife  
><span>Pairing:<span> Kurt/Blaine  
><span>Rating:<span> Mature  
><span>Warnings:<span> Possible triggers, mentions of non-con, mentions of child prostitution, dub-con  
><span>Spoilers:<span> None  
><span>Word Count:<span> 2,600  
><span>Summary:<span> When Special Agent Blaine Anderson is used as the distraction in an operation to stop a child prostitution ring, he certainly didn't expect to engage in activities with Kurt Hummel. And he especially didn't expect to fall in love with his boss' teenage son.  
><span>Prompt:<span> Written for this prompt at glee_kink_meme: Burt, Blaine and several others are special agents working on gang people responsible for child prostitution and it looks like one of those children is Burt's kidnapped very long time ago son.

How To Save A Life

_Chapter One__**  
><strong>____**Chapter One:**_

Blaine loved his job. He really, really loved his job. He had to remind himself of that, as he drove across the empty highway, clutching a cardboard cup of coffee as if it were his lifeline. He struggled to keep his eyes open, as he often did this late at night. Ah-morning, as it was two in the morning, last time he had glanced at the glowing red digital numbers shining from his car's radio.

Normally said radio would have been switched on by now, but Blaine was too tired. Besides, the reason for his early awakening was still fresh in his mind, preying on all positive thoughts. It was with a grim determination that Blaine pressed his foot onto the gas, his license and badge at the ready, in case anyone dared pull him over. It was at times like these when Blaine wished he had the flashing strobe lights. He was a special agent, a young one at that, and those lights were not bestowed upon him. But that didn't matter. All he would have to do would be to say the magic words, 'Burt Hummel' and he would be on his way, encouraged to speed even. Burt Hummel's name had become legendary throughout the law enforcement in the state of Ohio, his reputation even spreading as far as Michigan. He was also notorious for chewing out anyone who was so much as a minute late. Especially on this case. It was only the sense of urgency and the desperation in Burt Hummel's voice that had dragged Blaine out of bed at one thirty in the morning. But Blaine knew the importance of this case.

Blaine Anderson had not become the youngest member of Burr Hummel's elite team by being unobservant. Over the last year, Blaine realized that Burt Hummel always, always accepted cases involving children, and he always saw them through. He became heavily involved in those cases, and after six months, Blaine finally confronted Burt about it. The story that had been revealed to him was downright tragic.

Blaine had known that Burt Hummel's wife had died nine years ago, and he had remarried, but Blaine had never known about Burt's son. When Burt had told Blaine he had a son, Blaine had thought he meant Finn. As it turned out, Burt had a son from his first marriage, a now seventeen year old boy named Kurt. Blaine had expected to hear a sad tale of his death. He did not expect to hear the tragedy of his kidnapping.

Any instance of kidnapping was enough to draw tears, but Blaine couldn't help but feel his heart go out to Burt Hummel when he heard the details. Apparently his boss had been working on a case, trying to put down a child prostitution ring. His son had been walking home one day after school, and he had been kidnapped by the leaders of the ring. Since then, Burt Hummel had spent the past four years searching for the ring, doing everything he could to stop them, and reclaim his lost son. And now that they had finally pinned them down and gotten a location, he would be beyond pissed if his best agent was late.

Just thinking about Burt's expression made Blaine's grip on his Starbucks coffee carton tighten. He did not want to die, and he certainly did not want to die at the hands of his boss. At least if he died in a car accident or by a gunshot, there was a fifty percent chance it would be painless. If Burt Hummel murdered him, there was a one hundred and fifty percent chance that it would be hell, and Blaine would beg for death.

Blaine once more glanced at the glowing red numbers on the clock.

He pressed his foot down on the gas, as quickly as it would allow him to.

"What the hell took you so long?"

Blaine winced as his boss snapped at him, his tone full of fury. God, Burt was even more terrifying in person. Blaine quickly cast his hazel eyes around, glancing at the assembled team. He saw David shoot him a sympathetic glance from his spot behind the computer in the van. Next to him, Wesley Kim sat, headphones over his ears, watching a screen intently.

"The city traffic is a bitch, even this early in the morning."

Blaine's tone was light, but it implied the seriousness of the situation. However, Burt Hummel didn't seem to be in the state of mind for feigned nonchalance. In fact, at Blaine could have sworn he heard Burt Hummel growl. But he had to remember that there was every possibility that the man's son was somewhere in the shady motel, doing…things with someone. Blaine realized, bile rising in his throat, that Burt's son had been taken at the age of thirteen, innocence ripped away from him at such a young, vulnerable age.

Blaine quickly tore himself away from his own bitter, self-pitying memories. This was not about him. This was about rescuing Kurt and the other children.

"You're lucky we need you on this one Anderson, otherwise you would have been demoted to grunt work faster than you can say 'dapper'."

He had a hard time resisting rolling his eyes. It had become an ongoing joke throughout the office about Blaine's 'dapper' personality. Just because he was a gentleman who had never gotten laid before, Wes and David had decided to instigate the joke, and it had never truly died.

Suddenly, something registered within Blaine.

"You need me? For what, point guard?" Blaine was a little surprised. It was no secret that he was the best special agent, he wouldn't have been recruited at age twenty if he wasn't, but that was because he was a smooth talker, and was quick on his feet. He could adapt to a situation at the drop of a hat, but Jeff was by far the best shot out of all of them. He was usually the point guard.

But for the life of him, Blaine couldn't figure out what else Burt would need him for. He wouldn't have said that he was needed, unless it was for point guard, or something unorthodox. And guessing by the awkward looks being tossed across the room, and several people purposely avoiding his eyes, it was going to be the latter.

"Not quite kid." Burt said gruffly, though there was a hint of…was that pity in his voice? "We need you to be the distraction."

Now Blaine knew that it had been an apologetic tone.

The distraction was the worst job. They were always in the most danger, and they had to be quick thinkers. In retrospect, it was the perfect position for Blaine, and he fit it better than anyone else. But that didn't mean he had to like it. He still didn't understand the meaning behind the pointed looks he was getting from the other members of his team.

Wes turned away from his computer, and handed Blaine a micro camera. "This is brand new high tech shit from way up in the department. So if you lose or break this, I will personally castrate you." He said his voice deadly serious. Blaine had to laugh, if only to try and ease the heavy tension that he did not understand.

Sighing, Burt grabbed Blaine's shoulder, and turned him to face the older man. Burt ran a hand over his shaved head, and began to speak in his normal gruff voice, though it seemed slightly softer to Blaine. "Listen, kid, it is vitally important that you distract these people. The kids are hidden somewhere, and we have no idea where. The only way to find them is if the leaders take you to the kids."

Blaine frowned. How the hell was he going to convince them to do that? And why had Burt just shoved a roll of what seemed like several thousand dollars into his hand?

"Once you get down there, they'll probably take you to a separate room. We need you to stall for as long as possible. Maybe even hours."

Blaine was still confused. He glanced down at the money in his hand, about to ask what Burt meant, before it all finally clicked into place. He was a little oblivious at times yes, but really who would immediately jump to the conclusion that Burt wanted…that.

"Y-you want me to have s-sex with one of those-those children?" Blaine choked out, and the tension reached a peaking point. He couldn't believe this. His only sexual experience had been completely against his will, eight years ago. He couldn't believe that Burt was now asking him to partake in an act that they were currently trying to put people behind bars for. Blaine was downright shocked, and more than a little upset.

Burt looked Blaine straight in the eye, and nodded.

"Yes."

It was that one word that made Blaine snap.

"No!" He cried out, and he could feel the shock emanating from the other members of his team. He shook his head vehemently, enunciating his words. "No, I won't do that! How could you ask me to take advantage of someone like that?" Blaine felt especially betrayed, because not three months ago, he had confessed to Burt Hummel what had happened when he was thirteen years old.

"ANDERSON! Listen to me!"

Everything stopped as Burt Hummel roared in Blaine's face, trying to get his attention.

"If you want to help these kids, you will do what I told you! Do you think I'm happy about this? Do you think I want to put another kid through this? Do you think I want to ask one of my agents to do this? Because I sure as hell don't! But I want to get these kids out of this hellhole! I want to have my son back!"

Taking a deep breath, Burt began speaking again, this time his voice calmer, more rational. "You're the youngest agent Blaine; you'll be the most convincing. I need Kim and Roderick behind the computers and Jeff at point. Nick and Thad are his go to men, you know that, and Trent gets flustered within a mile radius of a girl!"

Blaine took a deep breath, and looked at the ground. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. He felt his stomach curling, he felt sick all over. And when he glanced at the micro camera pinned to the lapel of his jacket, he turned a mortified red, realizing that Wes, David and Burt would all be watching. Call him old fashioned, but he believed that sex was something special, something to share between two people who loved each other, in privacy. Not something to happen between an adult and an enslaved child, with other people watching, and no emotional ties to each other.

"Fine." Blaine said his voice cracking. "Fine, I'll do it." Glaring at Burt, he added, "But I'll never forgive you for this."

Burt heaved a sigh. "I don't think I'll forgive myself for this kid."

Blaine nodded, and barely listened as Wes gave him a rundown of how the ring operated, and how he was supposed to act, once inside the seedy looking motel. He only jerked to attention when he found David messing with his clothes and hair, making him look rather messy and disheveled.

"What the hell?" Blaine snapped, slapping David's hands away from him. David put his palms flat in the air, a peaceful gesture.

"It'll be more convincing if you look drunk." David said calmly. Handing him a bottle of straight vodka, he said, "Here, rub this on your face. It'll make you smell like you're drunk." Blaine took the bottle and did as he was told, with half a mind to take a shot from the bottle.

As if reading his mind, Burt said, without looking up from Wes' computer screen, "No drinking on the job Anderson, I don't give a damn what you're about to do. We need you alert and sober."

Blaine glared at the back of Burt's head, and couldn't resist snapping, "Yep, you're right Hummel, being drunk is definitely the worst thing I can do while fucking a child who is forcibly involved in prostitution."

Everyone in the room winced at Blaine's harsh, bitter words. The twenty-one year old hardly ever cursed or swore, but no one could truly blame him. None of them wanted to be in this situation, and they certainly didn't want their co-worker, their friend to have to be in it either.

David silently handed him a license plate to replace the one on his car. "You should take your car. You're playing a rich drunk, so your Mercedes-Bentz fits the part."

Blaine snatched the license plate away with a glare. He adored his car, he had saved his money and worked hard for it. His parents had not purchased it for him, something he was quite proud of. And now it would forever be tainted by the memories of this horrible night.

Without another word, Blaine stalked out of the cramped undercover van, and stormed silently over to his car.

As he walked into the motel, Blaine tried to imitate the walk of a man under the influence. He had, of course, been drunk a few times in his life, but he was a rather horny drunk, even resorting to kissing girls occasionally. However, he didn't want to think about being horny tonight.

Making his way over to the desk, he spoke in a slur, reciting the words Wes had taught him. "I'm looking for some entertainment downstairs tonight." He slapped down the roll of two-thousand dollars. Using his peripheral vision, Blaine saw the man behind the desk widen his eyes. However, like Blaine, he managed to keep his cool.

"Movies or television?" The man asked coolly. Blaine knew to say movies, but he did not know why. However, he trusted Wes. "Movies."

The man nodded, and asked if he wanted something age appropriate. Blaine had no idea what the hell that meant, so he went out on a limb and answered with a cocky yes. The man's eyebrow raised, but he made no comment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he passed desk duty over to another man, and led Blaine to his office.

In his office, he opened a door in the back, which led to some stairs. Blaine swallowed inconspicuously as he followed the man. The further he went, the more real this all became. He was about to have sex with an underage minor, someone who had probably been in this hellish trap for years. Someone who had already been broken and emotionally damaged.

Blaine resolved right then and there to make it as good for the child as he could. He didn't know who it would be, hell, he didn't even know if it would be a boy, but he knew what it felt like to be tainted. He knew what it felt like to have someone forced upon you. He had sworn to himself that he would never do that, and he wouldn't let these circumstances change that. He would make it sweet, and careful, he would make the person feel like they mattered, because they sure as hell did. Blaine, for all intent and purposes, would make love to them.

And when the door opened to reveal a lean, delicate, gorgeous looking teenager with sad, dulled blue eyes, Blaine realized how much easier, yet harder this was going to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: How To Save A Life  
><span>Author:<span> PuppeteerofLife, aka xlifelongsorrowx  
><span>Pairing:<span> Kurt/Blaine  
><span>Rating:<span> Mature  
><span>Warnings:<span> Possible triggers, mentions of non-con, mentions of child prostitution, dub-con  
><span>Spoilers:<span> None  
><span>Word Count:<span> 2,600  
><span>Summary:<span> When Special Agent Blaine Anderson is used as the distraction in an operation to stop a child prostitution ring, he certainly didn't expect to engage in activities with Kurt Hummel. And he especially didn't expect to fall in love with his boss' teenage son.  
><span>Prompt:<span> Written for this prompt at glee_kink_meme: Burt, Blaine and several others are special agents working on gang people responsible for child prostitution and it looks like one of those children is Burt's kidnapped very long time ago son.

**How To Save A Life**

_Chapter Two:_

The boy standing in front of Blaine was insanely beautiful. Blaine could not believe he was thinking this about a teenage boy, but he could not help but think it. It was so true. The teenager had light cinnamon colored hair, and beautiful blue-grey eyes. His eyes seemed dull and depressed. _'Now why on earth would that be?'_ Blaine wondered sarcastically. Even in tattered clothing, with scratches along his face, Blaine had never seen a man look quite so beautiful.

It took him a full minute to realize what he had thought, and correct his mental voice, realizing that the boy in front of him was just that; a boy. Not a man. He was a poor, heart-wrenching young boy who had been forced to grow up far too quickly.

"Hello."

Blaine forced the whisper past his thick throat, past his dry lips, so that the sound waves were released into the air, being carried across the empty space, into the beautiful boy's ears. The teenager in question snapped his head up, his eyes wide with shock.

Blaine realized with a fierce shot of pain in his heart, that the boy must be used to rough handling, not softly spoken words, but fierce grabs, and sharp movements. Blaine honestly felt like he could start crying right about now. How could anyone hurt this seemingly perfect and innocent boy? How could anyone want to damage him? Yet at the same time, Blaine realized how appealing he would be to pimps, and potential clients.

He was effeminate, slight yet muscular, a beautiful build. He looked feminine enough to satisfy most drunken men, and for the gay ones, well, the boy looked like he could turn a straight man gay, so there was no telling what could happen there.

Making sure his movements were slow and deliberate, Blaine moved across the room, approaching the small teenager quietly. The teen's eyes followed him warily as he did so, watching, waiting. It broke Blaine's heart to know that the teenager had to, that this was something the teenager had to do to protect himself, without ever being able to truly protect himself. It was heartbreaking, and if Blaine hadn't been a true professional, he knew he would have been in tears by now. Though there was no telling if his emotionless professional façade would be able to hold through the night.

Blaine noticed, as he stepped towards the blue eyed boy, that the teenager's muscles tensed with each step. The teenager did not move, but Blaine knew he wanted to. He knew, that no matter how sweet, how gentle he would be, this teenager would not want this. And to some degree, that hurt. Blaine was about to have sex with a beautiful young man, and the person he would be sharing it with, would not want it. But Blaine could not blame him in the slightest.

Gently, ever so gently, Blaine reached up a hand, and slowly-oh so slowly-pushed back a stray lock of the teenager's sweaty, dirty hair. Leaning down, Blaine whispered in the teen's ear, trying to relax him, even though he himself was still so tense. "I promise you, I am not going to hurt you."

And as Blaine looked into the teenager's guarded blue eyes, he knew, that to some degree, the teenager believed that Blaine was telling the truth. And that was all Blaine wanted. He needed the teen to know that he would not be like the others, that he was here to help.

Meanwhile, back in the truck, Burt, Wes, and David were all watching the screens intently. The other three members of the team were trying to spare their friend's dignity, and were not watching. However, the three who were did not like what they saw.

Blaine was Wes and David's good friend. They were a year older than him, they had all gone to school together, all taken Forensics together. They had decided to enlist together, and they were now on the team together. They knew the gist of what had happened to Blaine, and they knew this was a sensitive spot. They especially did not want to have to watch their friend have his first time, with a child, with someone that he had no emotional attachment to, but it was part of their jobs to have their eyes glued to the screen at all times.

Burt Hummel had taken to Blaine quite well, often thinking of him as a surrogate son. He could never replace the hole in his heart that was Kurt, however, he was quite fond of the curly haired, amiable man named Blaine. He had not wanted Blaine to go through with it, but he wanted his son back. He had selfishly ordered Blaine to lose his virginity, to have sex with a minor, to save his son. And now he was paying back for it in a major way.

He had been unable to keep the air in his mouth, he had let out a tiny, imperceptible gasp, at seeing Kurt's face fill up the computer screen. For a moment, Burt had been too happy to see his son, too sad at seeing the state he was in, to truly register that he was seeing his son, because Blaine was in the same room as him. That his co-worker would be having sex with his son.

His hands had curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms, as he watched Blaine approach him, and breathily whisper in Kurt's ear. They did not have audio, and for the first time, Burt wanted them to. Wes had insisted on removing it, saying that they owed Blaine that much, that if there was trouble, he would turn on his earpiece. However, Burt wanted to know what the hell Blaine was telling his son.

Never had he ever hated Blaine Anderson so much, then at that moment. He knew this was just karma coming to bite him in the ass, payback being a bitch, but he couldn't stand it. That was his son for God's sakes! That was his baby boy, the last piece he had of his first wife. The last time Burt had seen Kurt was when the teenager had been thirteen years old, and had promptly covered his ears and started singing, when Burt attempted to give him the talk that every teenage boy had to have before entering high school. Now he was seventeen years old, emotionally damaged by countless others, and about to get fucked by Burt's co-worker.

Burt was no fool. He knew perfectly well that Blaine could charm the pants off just about anyone. He was smooth, eloquent, and perfectly dapper. Whenever they would go on missions, it often caused a bit of a hold up, women trying to give Blaine their numbers, and Blaine having to stop and politely explain to them that he was gay. But Burt had never imagined that his gay co-worker would be getting into the pants of his equally gay son.

Sensing Burt's growing irritation, Jeff piped up from the back of the van, saying, "You know Burt, you were the one who told him to go in there."

Burt responded, never tearing his eyes away from the screen, where Blaine's hand was currently cupping Kurt's chin, slowly leaning in for a soft kiss. "Yeah, but somehow the thought never crossed my mind that I might have to watch him fuck my son who I haven't seen since he was thirteen and painstakingly naïve about sex."

The van was silent, and all eyes turned to Burt, who resolutely kept his eyes glued to the video feed coming from Blaine's camera. The twenty-one year old special agent now had Kurt's lips trapped in a kiss, and his hands were wandering further down his chest.

"But you know what they say. Payback's a bitch."

Blaine's hand was slowly slipping down the teenager's sides, causing the boy under him to shudder. Blaine didn't know if it was in disgust or in pleasure. Probably both. Blaine knew the sickening feeling of not wanting this, yet being turned on by it at the same time. He knew that the teenager must be feeling like his body betrayed him.

Sliding his hand down the teenager's leg, Blaine fingered the button on the younger boy's jeans. He didn't want to do this. Oh god, he so did not want to do this. He felt like a cradle robber, like he was taking a part of this boy's innocence. If he went through with this madness, he would be stripping this boy of something. How could he do to this poor soul what had been done to him all those years ago?

But he had orders. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if Blaine managed to fulfill his orders, then he could save this boy, and the countless other children that had been put through this horrible abuse. As Blaine slowly unzipped the teenagers' pants, he saw him squeeze his eyes shut, just as Blaine wanted to do. God, he was a sick human being. He was taking advantage of this kid, preying on the innocent, all because he was following orders. What kind of twisted world did they live in?

Taking a deep breath, Blaine pulled down the teens' pants, and tugged down his boxers with them. Blaine knew, right then and now, that he couldn't go all the way. There was no possible way. He needed to maintain some sense of boundaries. He would not be so cruel to this boy.

Slowly, he got down on his knees. He did not look at the teen's member. He would not invade his privacy like that. They may both be participating in the most intimate of acts, but Blaine knew neither of them truly wanted it. Not like this. Slowly, Blaine took the boy in his mouth.

The teenager let out a surprised squeak above him, and Blaine had to wonder if anyone ever had given him a blowjob before. Had anyone ever given him anything before, or had it been all take? Blaine didn't understand why, considering this was one of the most amazing feelings ever.

He instantly reprimanded himself, forcing himself to remember that this was an underage boy who had been enslaved and forced into the life of prostitution against his will. Blaine was not supposed to enjoy this, but oh god, how could he not?

The teenager was so hard, his salty pre-come dripping into Blaine's mouth. Blaine licked the underside of the teen's shaft, trying to make things good for the poor teen. If they had to have sex, he might as well make sure that the boy enjoyed himself. It was at that moment that Blaine realized he didn't even know if the teenager was gay or not. But it really didn't seem to be an appropriate time to ask, when he was currently deep throating the boy's cock.

Blaine couldn't help but wonder how the boy remained so still. How could he just stand there like a statue when someone was sucking on his cock? And then Blaine remembered, from his own experience, that during non-consensual sexual activities, the last thing you wanted was to actually enjoy yourself. And this boy must have had years of practice at not responding to the sexual stimulation.

So the older man considered it a great compliment that a whimper escaped those closed lips, that his hips thrusted into Blaine's mouth, shoving his hard cock even further down Blaine's throat. It was only now that Blaine realized it, but he himself was hard. He could hardly do anything about it, and he would never expect this boy to do anything about it either, but in just a few moments it could be problematic.

It seemed that Blaine was holding out longer than this teenager, which was a shock. The porcelain skinned boy was coming hard and fast down his throat, and oh- oh, Blaine quite liked that. The boy tasted a little bit like coffee and strawberries. Oh, well that was pretty nice.

Suddenly realizing that a boy, a teenage boy at least four years younger than himself, was making him hard, had come into Blaine's throat, quickly sufficed to kill Blaine's hard on. Blaine stood, and briskly zipped the boy up. As he did so, he made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

The teenager's eyes had brightened considerably, making them even more breathtaking. His brows were furrowed, confusion evident on his face. His sweet, beautiful mouth was slightly parted, and he managed to stutter out, "Wh-wha?"

It was then that three gunshots rang from above them.

"I'm Special Agent Blaine Anderson." Blaine quickly spoke to the boy, his tone apologetic. God he was sorry, so sorry the boy would never even know, that things had happened this way. "I'm sorry to have…taken advantage of you like that, but it was on orders. I have a team here, we're here to help you and the other children here. Do you know where they are?"

The teen nodded wordlessly, and pointed in the direction of the door. Blaine nodded, and quickly grabbed his notebook. "I'll need to know your name for my report."

The teenager swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Well that was pretty damn sexy-what the hell? One blowjob and Blaine started thinking of teenagers in terms like 'sexy'? What the hell was wrong with him? God, this poor teenager must think he was a sick pedophile of some sort!

"It's Kurt. I'm Kurt Hummel."

Blaine promptly dropped his notebook, and stared at the boy, his mouth hanging open unabashedly. In a small part of his mind, it registered that the teenager in front of him had a beautiful, high, melodic voice, but the rest of his brain was a little more focused on something else. Namely the fact that he had just given a fucking blowjob to his boss' son.

Oh god, this was messed up on so many levels.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: How To Save A Life  
><span>Author:<span> PuppeteerofLife, aka xlifelongsorrowx  
><span>Pairing:<span> Kurt/Blaine  
><span>Rating:<span> Mature  
><span>Warnings:<span> Possible triggers, mentions of non-con, mentions of child prostitution, dub-con  
><span>Spoilers:<span> None  
><span>Word Count:<span> 2,500  
><span>Summary:<span> When Special Agent Blaine Anderson is used as the distraction in an operation to stop a child prostitution ring, he certainly didn't expect to engage in activities with Kurt Hummel. And he especially didn't expect to fall in love with his boss' teenage son.  
><span>Prompt:<span> Written for this prompt at glee_kink_meme: Burt, Blaine and several others are special agents working on gang people responsible for child prostitution and it looks like one of those children is Burt's kidnapped very long time ago son.

Burt had given him a week off of work. Which was good, because Blaine was planning on asking for that anyways. Just being in Burt's presence, knowing that he had watched him give his son a blowjob made things awkward enough. He knew things would be a big pile of awkward around the office for a while, but he wanted at least a week's time of a break, before diving into that shit.

But it seemed that whatever deity was watching him from above hated him, because the team's secretary, Lucy, had called with his first assignment he had to get to on Monday. And when he heard what it was, he promptly banged his head against his kitchen table.

His job was to go to the Hummel household and check up on Kurt.

Just because he was the only one with a degree in psychology, Blaine had suddenly been appointed the office 'therapist'. Sure he had gotten a double major, but it was only to appease his parents! He didn't want the fucking degree, it could go to hell for all Blaine cared. It seemed that it only landed him in deeper shit, from disappointing his parents when he refused to become a shrink, to ensuring that his whole plan of never seeing Kurt Hummel again would be shot to hell.

Blaine felt so dirty. He had spent his first day off of work taking numerous showers, and his second day getting completely wasted. The third day he had spent the morning throwing up the alcohol, and the afternoon showering again.

He had fucked with a teenager. He had given his boss' seventeen year old son a blowjob. But the worst part was the fact that every night, Blaine would dream of Kurt, and doing it all again, albeit under better circumstances.

Blaine didn't know what that made him. A pedophile? A man, human? He was so screwed up, he could hardly even process all that had happened. He didn't know if the dreams were because he had gone twenty one years of life without any sort of consensual sexual activities, or because Kurt was just that damn hot. Probably a little bit of both. But that still didn't make it any more right.

So Blaine had taken to avoiding sleep. During college he had dealt with issues of insomnia, and Blaine hadn't ever wanted to return to that phase of his life. But he didn't want to have those dreams either. He should not be thinking about his boss' son like that! He should not be jerking off to the image of Kurt like that, yet he was.

It was just so wrong. Blaine was four years older than Kurt, yet every time he thought of that fact, his mind would summon the argument that four years was nothing in comparison to the ten years of an age gap between his parents. But still, Kurt was a minor. The last time he had seen his friends or family, he had been thirteen.

Who the hell even knew what Kurt was thinking? He must be so broken, so hurt from all the damage inflicted onto him by people over the years. And Blaine had just made it worse. From Kurt's perspective, it was his father's co-worker, who had paid money to have sex with him. How sick was that?

But he wasn't going to be allowed to leave Kurt alone to heal in peace. No, he was going to have to make it worse, to open that cut back up every week, and pour salt in the wound. Did Burt even know about this? Blaine couldn't imagine that he wanted his son spending time with his co-worker whom he had been sexually active with before. Private time. Time alone, in Kurt's room, talking about his feelings and what had happened to him.

When would this shit stop happening to Blaine?

All Kurt knew was that someone was coming to talk to him today. He wasn't particularly looking forward to it. He was still adjusting to life back at home. It seemed like ever since that night, his life had just been a blur of sobbing people, flashing lights, and tight hugs. The last image Kurt could remember with pure clarity, was of the dark haired agent, lips red and swollen from sucking him off, eyes wide, and mouth open, shocked to have found out that he had given a blowjob to his boss' son.

Kurt dreamed about that night every time he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Which was quite often. Whenever he didn't like the subject, he feigned exhaustion, a trick he had learned during his four years in that horrible prostitution business.

He felt so many emotions towards that agent, Blaine Anderson, he had said his name was. So many emotions were tied in with that name that Kurt didn't even know how to feel about him. For one, Blaine was the first person to ever do anything sexual for him. Four years in the business of giving people sex for money, and he had received his first blowjob from one of his father's agents.

He had been so gentle with Kurt, so slow, so sweet. Thinking of that made Kurt's heart beat a little faster, and sometimes stop altogether. Thinking of how special that had been for him made him smile, think that maybe there was hope for him.

But then remembering that Blaine had apologized for it afterwards. He had said that it was just on orders. He had implied that he never would have had sex with Kurt otherwise.

The rational part of Kurt knew that it was because he was an adult, and Kurt was just a stupid kid, but his rational side had long ago been drowned out by the self esteem issues that business had given him. The kind of men that he had been with were not ones to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, rather speak harsh criticisms in their coarse, scraggly, drunken voices. How he wasn't thin enough, how he wasn't small enough. They wanted someone that could remind them of a woman, so they could pretend they were straight. No matter that Kurt could count his ribs, or that the lack of sunlight had stunted his growth, and made his porcelain skin practically glow. He wasn't good enough. He just wasn't enough. And the nicest person to ever be with him, the person to come and _save _him, had reinforced that idea.

"Kurt! The agent is here to see you!"

Kurt sighed, and finished examining his imperfections in the mirror. He didn't understand why an agent had to come and speak to him. He was already speaking to a doctor every week, and a therapist every two days. Why did he have to talk to an agent too?

He examined himself in the mirror. He wanted to just toss on a baggy shirt, to cover how thin he truly was, but he was already wearing skinny jeans. Size zero skinny jeans. He had already listened to one of the Cheerios in the glee club gush enviously about how skinny he was. But he wasn't thin enough yet.

Knowing that he needed a tight shirt to go with his ensemble, Kurt grabbed a black skin tight long sleeved shirt, and added a silver vest and tie. The shirt still hung off his wrists a little, but it did nothing to convince Kurt of his weight. He wasn't perfect yet. Not according to the one person who had ever mattered.

Blaine waited at the kitchen table awkwardly, sipping some coffee that Carole Hudson-Hummel had prepared for him. There was another mug staring at him from across the table, at the seat that Kurt would obviously occupy. Burt was out on a case, both a blessing and a curse in Blaine's opinion.

He was about to tell Carole that he would come back at another time (he wouldn't) when he heard the light pad of footsteps up the stairs. The door leading somewhere downstairs opened, and Kurt entered into the living room. Thankfully, Carole was not facing him, and Kurt was focused on anything but him, so neither of them saw Blaine's jaw drop.

The beautiful boy he had seen a week ago in that dark, dingy hotel room, had nothing on this gorgeous angel now. All the dirt had been cleaned off of Kurt, his messy hair had been combed and styled. His porcelain skin practically glowed, his blue eyes shined brightly.

But as Blaine's eyes raked over Kurt's outfit, he immediately noticed how disturbingly thin Kurt was. He did not resemble an anorexic stick, he actually looked quite good, but Blaine knew that someone of his height and age should not be that skinny. It was unhealthy.

Finally, the seventeen year old met Blaine's eyes, and Blaine saw so many emotions in them, it was impossible to decipher just one of them. Kurt slowly walked to the table at sat down. The coffee cup in front of him remained untouched.

"You should eat something." Blaine said, if only to break the awkward, tense silence. "You probably haven't been eating well for the past few years."

Kurt shrugged his small delicate shoulders. "I'm not hungry. It's what happens when your stomach shrinks to the size of a bean. You can only eat so much."

Blaine winced. He knew that Kurt was simply being blasé, he had read the teens psychological analysis. It had said he used sarcasm and blunt statements as a defense mechanism. Yet it couldn't help but feel like he was personally attacking Blaine, as if he was accusing the man of taking too long to save him. And Blaine had just made it worse. He knew now, that he was emotionally attached to this boy, and he had no idea how this was going to work out, especially if his dreams about Kurt persisted.

"So how have you been holding up since being back home?" Blaine's tone was cheery and bright, as fake as the artificial flavoring in Kool Aid.

The boy stirred his coffee wordlessly with his long delicate finger. Blaine was distracted for a moment, thinking about how it would feel to have those beautiful, delicate fingers wrapped around his cock. Blaine promptly choked on his coffee.

Kurt looked up. "Coffee not to your taste?"

Blaine swallowed, his skin turning slightly red. "Um, no, no it's fine. I'm usually one for a medium drip, but this is great."

Kurt nodded, and sighed. "I'm fine. Still adjusting to not having someone fuck me roughly several times a day, but it's an ongoing process."

Once again Blaine found himself choking on his coffee, feeling like he was the teenager and Kurt was the adult. Weren't teenagers supposed to be awkward and uncertain? But he had to remind himself that Kurt was not just any teenager.

"Can I ask you a question? A personal one?" Without waiting for an answer, Kurt asked it, resulting in Blaine spitting out his coffee for the third time in the past ten minutes. "We had sex. Not actual intercourse, but still sex. Did that mean anything? Or was it just business?"

How the hell was Blaine supposed to answer that?

"It was just business."

Kurt's face paled, and for a fleeting moment, a look of such hurt passed over it. Blaine could practically see the heartbreak on his face, and he immediately began slapping himself mentally. How could he be so stupid? Why had he told such a lie?

"That's all I needed to know."

With that Kurt stood up and practically fled down the stairs. Blaine stood and looked around for Carole, but realized she had retreated up the stairs to the room she shared with Burt. Taking a deep breath, Blaine prepared himself for what was to come.

Kurt knew it was stupid. Why would the tall, handsome, kind agent feel anything for him? Why would he have enjoyed that night at all? Kurt was seventeen years old, he had been told repeatedly that he was a failure to satisfy. Why would he think that Blaine was any different?

Yet here he sat, sobbing on his bed, trying to hold back the tears. The strangled sobs escaped the barrier of his lips against his will. He didn't even hear the door to the basement open. He didn't even know Blaine was in his room until he was at the base of the stairs.

"Kurt?" He called quietly, and Kurt's head snapped up. Seeing the sad look on Blaine's face, he choked down another sob. "What do you want?"

He saw Blaine took a deep breath, and he listened carefully as he began to speak.

"I was told to be the distraction. I was told I had to stall as long as possible, and if that meant having sex with whoever it was, than so be it. I was against it. I didn't want to hurt anyone even more. I don't believe in sex with no emotional attachments. But I had to follow orders. It wasn't supposed to mean anything."

Kurt started crying for real, tears escaping his bright blue eyes. "T-than leave. Just leave, okay? I-I don't want y-you around. I-I may just be some-some stupid kid to you, but y-you were the only one who-who…" Kurt trailed off, his tears choking the words he was too humiliated to speak.

Blaine moved closer, and cupped Kurt's chin in his hands, just like he had done that fateful night one week ago. "It wasn't supposed to mean anything. But it did."

Kurt's eyes widened, and before he knew it, Blaine had crossed the distance between their lips. Blaine was kissing him. Blaine Anderson, his father's twenty one year old co-worker, who had given Kurt a blowjob on his father's orders, was kissing him, seventeen-year-old Kurt Hummel, former prostitute, because he wanted to.

It was just sad to think that this was the least screwed up kiss Kurt had ever experienced.


End file.
